Tying Knots
by xXDonnaTylerXx
Summary: 'Annie and Peeta are what we've fought for, and though they are physically here, they've left us... So what are we left with? Each other, I guess. Someone whose hand you can reach out for in the dark and know you'll find it seeking yours.' The story of the growing relationship between Katniss and Finnick in Thirteen as they deal with their responsibilities and their fading loves.
1. Chapter 1

**Hi everyone! This story takes place during _Mockingjay, _beginning a few days after Annie, Peeta and the others have been rescued, and focusses on the evolving relationship between Katniss and Finnick as they confide in each other and help each other cope. It's a little bit altered from the books in places, because Annie in this story is a lot more unstable, and it will have a different outcome, although I do use little snippets of Collins' dialogue which I obviously don't own! I'm not sure how many chapters it will end up being yet, but please do give it a go and let me know what you think! Reviews are always, always appreciated. Enjoy! Donna xx**

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Chapter One

I hear the door quietly open, and huddle further into the dark corner of my favourite supply closet until it closes again. I assume whoever it was didn't notice me, and merely took what they came for and left, and so I relax, trying my hardest to drift into a numb sleep. It's only a few minutes later, when I hear the tiniest hiccup, that I open my eyes and see him through the gloom, sitting with his knees tightly to his chest and staring down at his rope.

I want to order him out like I would anyone else, but I can't. I nudge him gently with my foot, a silent acknowledgement that I've noticed him, and he lifts his head to look at me, his eyes bleary. I wait for Finnick to speak first.

"I was wrong." His voice is hoarse, the opposite of his usual smooth tone, "I should have known."

"What are you talking about?"

"What I said to you the other day. About the rescue."

I think back, and remember his words: _Don't you see, Katniss, this will decide things. One way or the other. By the end of the day, they'll either be dead or with us. It's… it's more than we could hope for!_

He's right now, and he was wrong then. They are not dead, which would have been the kindest outcome for them, and though they are present, the people we lost are certainly not back with us. Peeta is warped beyond recognition, drugged back into unconsciousness by Thirteen's medics because it's kinder than letting him stay awake to struggle with his restraints until he bleeds, to yell about his hatred for me until his throat is raw. And Annie…

"How is she?" I manage, and Finnick squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head.

"Gone." He tells me bitterly, "Exactly as I was scared of. Before the Quell, she was barely keeping it together, but now? After what they've done to her? She's unrecognisable."

"At least she still loves you." I whisper, not going on to say what I really mean – that Peeta will never love me again. I know Finnick understands, though.

"I think she does," He admits with a sigh, "But I don't think she knows why, any more."

"She doesn't know why she loves you?"

"No. She's too out of it, Katniss; every time I think she's really here with me she lasts twenty seconds and slips back into her own little world. She can't tell her memories from her imagination, or the past from the present... She's clinging to me because she knows she's supposed to, but honest to god I think most of the time I could ask her my surname or what district we're from or _what she's doing with me_ and she wouldn't have a clue."

This is it. This is why I'm certain that Finnick is the only person in this district who can genuinely understand how I've felt since they came back. We're both having to come to terms with the fact that the reunions we had hoped for, the relationships we'd hoped to rekindle, will never exist again. Annie and Peeta are what we've fought for, and though they are physically here, they've left us... So what are we left with?

Each other, I guess. Someone whose hand you can reach out for in the dark, like I do now, and know you'll find it seeking yours.

"You think she can get better?" I've never sounded less positive, and neither has his reply.

"No. No, I thought she could get better before, but not now. Not after the Capitol. They may not have hijacked her like they did with Peeta, but I think it's because they realised that they didn't need to. That just being confined would be enough to send her… To make her…" Finnick can't finish, and looks at me with tears in his eyes. "What am I going to do, Katniss?"

I don't have an answer, of course, so I look down, and see that while we were speaking he has mindlessly wrapped his length of rope around both of our hands where they clutch each other.

Without warning, images of Finnick in his games enter my head, of him using rope, trapping the other tributes in nets, and I know for a fact that I'm going to be sick. I wrench my hand away, stumble out of the closet and into a bathroom in a flash, barely registering that I've knocked down a stack of boxes on my way out.

I look in the mirror as I clean myself up, thankful that there's no ghastly makeup to smudge as I splash my face with water. Where did _that _come from? Finnick was at his most vulnerable, and somehow that equated in my head to him at his most powerful? Not just powerful but _deadly._ I can't judge him for what he did in his games; what we all had to do… No, the curse of being a Victor obviously just got the better of me.

I retrace my steps and open the door of the cupboard to see Finnick packing the stationery I knocked over back into its boxes. He is deliberate, methodical, and I guess this must help him as much as tying his rope does.

"Sorry." I gesture to the floor, "I just… I was thinking…" How can I explain to him what just came over me? I don't even understand it myself. Make an excuse.

"Thinking about Peeta. And how important it is for me to focus on him getting better so that we can go back to the way things were. "

Finnick scoffs, barely glancing up from his pencils. "If you say so, Girl on Fire."

"_Girl on Fire?" _I barely realise I've expressed my shock out loud until he looks up at me, eyebrows raised.

"Yep. That was your Capitol voice, Katniss. Just for a second there I thought I was watching you lie your way through an interview with Caesar Flickerman." I'm speechless, but it doesn't seem to matter because Finnick isn't finished, standing up to look me in the eye as he continues.

"You want to be that person with me? Fine!" He plants a wide, fake grin on his face, "Then I'll be Capitol Finnick as well, and the two of us can laugh about when all this _war _business blows over and we can get on with being whores in between mentoring the Hunger Games for the rest of our lives and marry Annie and Peeta who will _miraculously recover _and live happily ever after. That's what friends are for, huh, Katniss?"

He's stunned me. I walk away from him and ignore my dinner and my scheduled hunting time with Gale and go back to my compartment and sleep.

* * *

If only it were that simple. In my own little bed, I'm supposed to be able to get away from Peeta and from Gale and from Coin and from Annie and from all of their nonsense. Instead my dreams are full of them. For the second time today, I find that Finnick's words drift into my head: _I drag myself out of nightmares each morning and find there's no relief in waking._

It's 3am. Lying here is pointless. Sleep is pointless, and being awake is pointless. My body moves of its own accord, slipping out of the room silently without waking my mother or Prim and walking towards- Where? Where am I walking to?

I _ought _to want Gale right now, I realise. He has been my rock from the beginning; the person I can talk to and who won't hesitate to help. But since Peeta's warning and the bombing, our bond seems to have gone and his jealousy has increased tenfold, not only towards Peeta but Finnick, too. He must be crazy. Finnick hates me now.

And yet, I find I've walked to the door of his compartment without even registering. My subconscious tells me _He understands you. He's who you need. _My subconscious is obviously more mentally disoriented than I am. I stop myself from knocking on Finnick's door when I realise that Annie might well be inside too –in fact, yes, as I stop and listen, I can hear a female voice yelling wildly from inside.

I never in a million years thought I could miss anything about the Games or the Victory Tour, but right now I'd kill to be safely on the train with Peeta, his arms around me, knowing in my heart that he'd never willingly let go…

Well, he has. He's broken, and he's forgotten, and he's done with me. And me with him.

After racking my brains as to who could possibly help me right now, I begrudgingly settle on Johanna – although I know she won't be gentle or comfort me, she might at least knock some sense into me. When I arrive at the hospital, I find it unmanned, darkened and empty, apart from one bed in which a figure lies under the blanket but clearly awake and fidgeting.

"Johanna?" I move across and sit down in the chair next to the bed, only for the person to turn to me and shake his head.

"Nope." Finnick says, turning onto his side to face me fully, and I see the rope which his hands were busy with, "Not here." I'm so surprised that I forget our encounter this afternoon.

"Where is she? Is she ok?"

"She's got her own private room," Finnick sighs, "She's unconscious so they have to keep a close eye on her. Apparently she overdid it a little on the self-administered morphling this afternoon."

My eyes widen. "You mean she was trying to-?"

"No." He cuts me off bluntly, "No, I don't think she would. Johanna's strong, she… She just wants a way to forget and not to feel."

"She's not alone there," I mutter, looking down at my hands, and then force the courage to meet his eyes. "I'm sorry, Finnick."

He nods, "I figured. I am, too. I don't think you're stupid enough to believe there's a happy ending here, for either of us. I just knew you weren't telling me something and I was surprised and I let the horrible background things take over me."

"I understand. I know that me and you shouldn't lie to each other." There's silence for a moment, only filled by the slight rustling of the sheet as he moves his hand to offer it to me. I don't hesitate to take it.

"Why'd you come to find me in the cavern, Katniss?"

"I don't know. Why'd you come to find me in the cupboard?"

He thinks for a moment. "Because you're the one who gets it. How it feels to be so conflicted. On the hovercraft, after the Quell, when you came in with that syringe… I'm sure Haymitch thought it was to defend yourself. But I know you were looking for Peeta. I know you understand that sometimes it would just be kinder for it to end."

I nod slowly, remembering Finnick's words by my bedside on that hovercraft. _I wish she was dead… I wish they were all dead and we were, too._ And then I remember my thoughts about Buttercup and the torch game in the cavern, and my metaphor of Peeta as the light and being out of reach but still _there _and how I thought if I only reached high enough, he could come back… But he's back now, and he's still more out of reach than ever. I squeeze my eyes shut and force the thoughts away, replacing them with something more trivial.

"I thought you'd be in your compartment. I heard Annie yelling in there," I blurt out, not caring that I'm admitting to Finnick that I listened outside his door.

"So she's still yelling." He says sadly, slightly increasing his pressure on my hand, "It's why I'm here. Once she's gone, she's gone for hours, and it doesn't make a single bit of difference whether I'm there with her or not. It's like I'm invisible to her." Finnick sighs heavily, "So I thought I'd come in here and see if I could get some sleep. No chance."

"Nightmares." I tell him, not even needing to ask. There's a couple of minutes of silence between us, and then Finnick shuffles aside to make some space, and I hop up beside him in the uncomfortable hospital bed. It reminds me of the last time we were here together, huddled in my bed with our dinner trays to watch the Capitol's interview with Peeta. I decide I need to tell him what drove me to the cupboard this afternoon.

"So they tried something on Peeta today." We turn to face each other as my voice breaks the silence, "They sent in a girl from our district, Delly, to try and bring some of his old memories back. Ones the Capitol hadn't touched. She was told only to speak about his childhood, and not to mention me at all. And…"

"And he brought it round to you on his own?"

I nod. "He called me a mutt, Finnick, he… He doesn't even believe I'm human."

"The state he's in, Katniss, _he's _not human." It's awful, but I can't disagree with him. Finnick absent mindedly picks up a piece of my hair from the pillow between us, examining it closely.

"So that's me. Why were _you _in the closet today?"

His face twitches slightly, as though he's contemplating telling me. I know he will, though.

"Annie." Finnick says, "She actually seemed quite with it, compared to other times. She was eating her dinner, and managing not to drift away, and then she turned to look at me with this _smile… _I can't describe it, Katniss. It was terrifying, like she was looking straight through me, and then she snapped out of it. And she looked a bit confused, and then focussed on me again, and calm as anything, asked me if I think the weather will be nice for this year's Hunger Games. Whether I think the head Gamemaker has anything good planned for the Quarter Quell, and what time her older brother will be home – this is Annie's brother who died when she was _six. _And then she picked up her fork, stood up, and threw it as hard as she could across the room, before asking me 'You are Finnick, aren't you? It's so nice to finally meet you in person after seeing you on TV for so many years.'"

"Well," I truly do not know what to say. "The state she's in, Finnick…"

"I know. It's just that I'm barely keeping it together myself." He extracts a single strand of my hair from the lock he's holding and ties a miniscule knot in it, "I don't know how I can stay – how I can stay with her when she often doesn't even know who I am, and not completely lose my own mind."

"I can't stay." I admit, "I've told Haymitch as much and he's looking for something for me in one of the districts. Probably Two."

"I wish I could go." Finnick says, accidentally tugging too hard on my hair as he ties it, and I swat his hand away. "They wouldn't let me, though. They want me to stay with her all the time, and they assume I'm happy to do it. They're so focussed on Peeta that they don't think her state is severe enough to warrant the same supervision he gets."

"The two of them…" My voice is thick, "God knows what they went through, Finnick. God knows what they did to them. I just need to get away. I can't be underground anymore, I need to breathe some air and see some trees."

"I'm the same. I'd give anything to go to Four and see the ocean."

"We'll go!" I squeeze his hand, and he smiles.

"Of course we will, Katniss. We can swim, and go on a boat." Suddenly, we aren't in Thirteen, and we aren't in a warzone. There is no Peeta, and no Annie, and we are just two young people making plans.

"You can finish teaching me how to catch fish! And we can go to the beach."

"The beach! Oh, you're going to love the beach. There's nothing quite like walking on warm sand, or sitting and looking out at the sea."

"Can you see it from your house?"

"Not quite, but it's close; just a few minute's walk…"

We fall asleep holding hands and talking about the seaside. Hours later, it isn't a nightmare that wakes me but the voices of two medics discussing Peeta's condition. And then Prim, looking puzzled at the sight of us but refraining from asking questions, and delivering the message that Annie has got lost looking for the dining room and has been asking random citizens if they know how to get to the best restaurant in the Capitol.

The little solace we found last night has gone. Finnick takes a deep breath, closes his eyes for a moment, looking pained, and then goes to Annie. I avoid Prim's perplexed expression, I find Haymitch, and I go to Two.


	2. Chapter 2

**Here's chapter two everyone! Thanks so much for the alerts and favourites and couple of reviews. I would reeeeally appreciate more of your comments and opinions, I love hearing what people think and it motivates me to write much quicker! Hope you all enjoy :) x**

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Chapter Two

There are woods in Two, at least. There's the smell of trees and the feel of the wind and the taste of fresh air, and it is in these woods that I kiss Gale to drown out everything that he has just said to me about Peeta.

_I don't stand a chance if he doesn't get better. You'll never be able to let him go. You'll always feel wrong about being with me._

Well, I know in my heart that Peeta's never going to get better… So is Gale right? Will I never be able to let him go, and be stuck in this state of unrest for my whole life? Not with him, not loving him, but unable to rid myself of the guilt I feel and the responsibility I know I have towards him… The thought horrifies me.

But then, what I said to Gale was true, too. That I've always felt guilty for kissing Peeta because of him, whether or not he believes it. That I loved Peeta, I'm sure, but I'm uncertain in what way… Finnick said that to me, I remember, in the cavern. What I feel for Peeta is strong, and real – but what kind of love is it? If only Finnick were here to help me now; to talk things through until I could make a little more sense of them. Perhaps next time I speak to Haymitch on the phone I could get him to-

"Katniss."

Sensing my distraction, Gale pulls away. Remembering where I am and what I've just been doing, I focus back on him, turning the talk onto how he realised his feelings for me. He tells me that I'll always be oblivious to people being in love with me, and I frown at him as he continues.

"Take Peeta. Take me. Or even Finnick. I was starting to worry he had his eye on you, but he seems back on track now." I sigh, genuinely irritated and impatient with Gale's jealousy.

"Back on track?"I demand, exasperated, "And what do you mean by that?"

"Wh-" Gale stutters, surprised, "I just mean that now he's got Annie back-"

"And there you go, Gale." I couldn't care less if we were kissing twenty seconds ago. I am _furious. _"Rushing in and making assumptions and leaping to judge people for things you know nothing about. Annie's back – she's broken, but she's back, so Finnick _must_ be happy! Peeta's been hijacked, so I _must _be planning on being with you! Finnick and I have lived through the games, are both going through something horrific and have found the tiniest bit of comfort in one another's company and conversation, so he _must _be in love with me, or in the very least trying to seduce me!" I spit my final words at him and turn on my heel. "You don't know Finnick if you think he'd love me."

"I know he was desperate." Gale addresses my retreating back, "That makes people do all kinds of crazy things." How he has remained calm in the face of my tirade, I don't know. But I'm seeing clearly for the first time that he just doesn't understand. He doesn't understand me, and as much as I hope and pray and try to convince myself, I don't think he ever will.

"How about this, Gale," I have calmed my voice, "You don't worry about me anymore. Because if you're right, which I know you think you_ always are, _then there's no hope for the two of us anyway. I'll just spend the rest of my life riddled with guilt about Peeta until I snap and do something as crazy as confide in the _desperate _Finnick Odair. But I won't trouble you with it any longer. You forget me and just get on with building your death traps and winning the war by any means possible. That's all that's important, anyway."

I don't wait for his reaction before I leave, and I don't look at him the following day as he takes my words to heart and devises a plan to kill every single worker inside the Nut.

Haymitch tells me, while District Two falls apart around us, that they showed Peeta a clip of me singing today and for the first time, it didn't trigger a breakdown. I suppose I should be happy, but truthfully, all I am is numb. I can't see this as improvement, because I know in the bottom of my soul that my Peeta is gone. While to everyone else this new version of him may be improving, I will never forget the look in his eyes and the tone in his voice which communicated pure, burning hatred for me. He isn't mine anymore, he is the Capitol's. The best we can hope for is that he'll be _neutral _towards me, that he _won't hate_ me, but that isn't the same as loving me. Hearing anything about this new Peeta just makes me miss my boy with the bread even more.

I wish he was here. The real him. He could describe to everyone how very wrong this entire Nut plan is… I push the thought out of my head, and I'm about to ask whether I can speak to Finnick when a burst of gunfire interrupts my thoughts, and Haymitch disconnects from my headset to help the rebels.

His voice returns to my ears when I'm instructed to make my speech, and as usual, I defy my instructions, running out into the square. I plead with the man from Two whose gun is trained on me, thinking of the other Victors in their interviews before the Quell, and how much better they were than me at explaining the Capitol's cruelty.

I think how some of the Victors demanded action, like Beetee, Chaff and Johanna, and then I think of Finnick. He played up to his smooth stereotype, admittedly, but his message was different; one of love and not one of anger. For a second, I close my eyes to collect my thoughts, trying to focus as hard as I can on the old Peeta and how I need to take inspiration from him and emerge from this. I find with horror that when I try and picture his face, I picture it snarling and lunging at me, and it is replaced by the image of Finnick reciting his love poem, bursting through my subconscious and flooding me with an unexpected wave of calmness and warmth.

I don't have time to register how surprised I am at my own thoughts. I open my eyes, and realise I have been too distracted. I can't convince these people. All I can do is stare up at the screen and watch myself get shot.

* * *

I guess that by coming to my hospital room back in Thirteen, Gale is trying to give me some consolation. But even as he tells me that we have taken Two, that the people in the square turned on the Capitol soldiers themselves, I merely feel numb, and I know that this time it isn't caused by the morphling flooding through my veins. I stare at him as he tries to reason with me that his strategy was okay, and even though I tell him the opposite to his face, all I can think is how _heartless_ he sounds.

Finnick rushes in, and I inhale sharply, sure that he will hold back because Gale is here. Instead, I am more grateful than I have ever been, as he ignores Gale's cool gaze, comes straight to my side, sits down next to me on my bed and envelops both of my hands with his.

"I'm _so _glad you're awake." I can tell he means it, and I open my mouth to say as much before Gale beats me to it, his eyebrows raised.

"We all are."

Finnick's eyes move from my face to Gale's, puzzled. Clearly until now Gale has made his jealousy obvious only to me.

"Of course we are." Finnick searches Gale's face and I can almost see his mind working him out. "Can't have our beautiful Mockingjay with broken wings, can we?" His tone is feather light, but verging very closely on dangerous as he squeezes my hands harder, never breaking eye contact with Gale.

Gale's eyes flare, and I just manage with great effort not to wince as he stands and pointedly kisses me on the side of the head before leaving. As soon as the door closes behind him, I let the tears come for the first time and collapse into Finnick. He extracts himself from me just long enough to pull the curtains around my bed shut, then returns and holds me in silence until my breathing evens out.

"I'm sorry," I choke out, aware that he spends all of his time taking care of someone, "You don't need me being so weak."

"Not at all." Finnick murmurs, pushing hair off my damp face, "I just don't want you rupturing anything else with all that crying." I manage a weak smile, and I'm overcome with a flash of that warmth I felt when I pictured him in Two. What _is _that?

"How have things been here?" I ask, and I don't need to explicitly say it for him to understand my real question. _How have things been with her?_

He shakes his head sadly, "I've had to bring her in here to the hospital quite a few times. Nights when she's even worse than usual and I worry she's going to do some serious damage to herself." Finnick rubs a hand across his face, the other one still locked firmly in mine, "I was going to ask Haymitch if I could call you over the last couple weeks, but everything just got on top of me, and then all of a sudden you'd been hurt and I- God, I felt so _guilty, _and so scared that you wouldn't make it and I wouldn't be able to talk to you again."

I tell him what happened between me and Gale in Two, and let slip about Gale's jealousy before I realise what I'm saying. Finnick just nods.

"Well," He considers, biting his lip, "I guess I'm not surprised. He's already had to deal with you being so public with Peeta."

"But me and you _aren't _publicly close." I insist, "We only ever talk when it's just the two of us."

"But that's more _real, _isn't it. I guess to Gale, the fact that we don't have to spend time together but we choose to is a sign that you really have found someone else to help you-" Finnick cuts himself off, looking slightly panicky. "I mean, I don't want to assume that you… That you think of me-"

"You're not assuming anything, Finnick!" I almost laugh at the idea of him thinking he'd offended me. "Of _course _I need you; you've been more help to me than anyone in this damn place. I wouldn't have been able to carry on through all of this without you, they left us both in the dark about their plans and pretty much wrote us off as crazy. Until…"

"Until they brought Annie and Peeta back," Finnick finishes for me bitterly, "And decided we could just about pass as sane in comparison to them. Sane enough to start using you again as the face of their rebellion, even though you were in danger, and to leave me all alone to take care of her."

I rest my head on his shoulder. "Where is she now?"

"Asleep." He sighs, "Honest to god, she's happier that way than any other. I'm just glad you woke up at a time when she was asleep so I could come right to see you."

It becomes our little routine. Since Annie's sleeping is so erratic, Finnick comes to sit with me whenever she rests during the day, and we do our best to keep each other going; to talk through the madness we're experiencing. That is, when I'm not spouting propaganda to the cameras from my hospital bed or taking the agonising walks which are part of my rehabilitation.

One night, I witness Annie at her very worst. Finnick has no choice but to bring her here to the hospital, where the medics sigh and give her her own room, presumably to be drugged into a state where she can't make herself sick or scratch herself as she raves and yells. I watch from my bed as they direct Finnick to carry her struggling form down the corridor to the same area where Peeta's secure room is.

I wait a few minutes, prepared for him to lose it. And sure enough, Finnick soon walks purposefully back into sight, climbing straight into my bed and my waiting arms and sobbing for so long that we both lose all track of time.

Hours and hours later, we're still holding on tight, only just able to make out the other's eyes and whispering feverish secrets to one another in the darkness.

"Do you love him, Katniss? Can you still love Peeta like this?"

"I can't. Not the way he is now. It's all just so tangled up in my head… It's like you said during the bombing. Nobody including me even knows the _way _I loved him in the first place."

"I understand. Everything I thought I felt is slipping further away from me every day."

"How do you know you love Annie?"

Silence.

"Finnick? In what _way_ do you love her?"

"I love her… Because I know that she needs me and it's my job to give her help. I love her like someone who cares about her. I love her like I feel responsible. How a friend loves another friend in need. How a mentor loves a tribute."

"And what about how a boyfriend loves a girlfriend? How a husband loves a wife?"

Silence. He buries his head in my neck. Suddenly, I realise, and all I can do is hold him tighter and plant a kiss on his curly head.

"That's not how you loved Peeta, is it?" His voice is muffled against my shoulder, but I can still hear the pain.

"No, Finnick, it isn't." I admit it to him, and I _finally _admit it to myself. "And as much as I've tried to convince myself, I don't feel like that about Gale, either."

He pulls back enough to look me in the face, his eyes shining. "It's never occurred to anyone that I don't love her like that, Katniss. There's no way anybody could comprehend it. I've always done everything to protect her because I _care, _and it's just been so long and I can't tell anyone… How could I even _begin _to tell? She's not even mentally here anymore and it's just so cruel and still I'm bound to her."

"It's the Victor's lot in life." I whisper, "Haymitch once told me that we never, ever get off the train from the Victory Tour onwards. We have to do what they want us to do… Be with whoever they want us to be with."

"But that's the Capitol." Finnick says, "Maybe the rebellion will stop it." For the first time tonight, there's the tiniest bit of hope in his voice. "Maybe once this is all over we'll be able to get out of the public eye and do whatever we want."

"Yeah." I whisper back, trying to force some positivity into my voice, "Yeah, maybe we will." Neither of us is stupid enough to believe what we're saying, but we both need this right now. And so we give each other watery smiles, and through the night hold tight to one another and the sliver of hope that we have created for ourselves.

But the next day, on my walk above the ground, I'm joined by Plutarch. He catches me up on everything I have missed; we've taken Two, and once some final, superficial discussions have taken place in Four, all of the districts will officially be ours, and the Capitol invasion can begin.

I'm barely listening as he continues to speak about propos and entertainment, until one word freezes me in my tracks.

"Plutarch, did you just say _wedding?_"

"Oh, yes." He looks pleased with himself, "It'll be the best propo yet! I haven't asked him personally, but President Coin is about to do that now, and I'm sure he's been planning it anyway since they were reunited!"

There's a cold, sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach as I think I realise who he's talking about. "You… You mean-?"

"Finnick and Annie, of course! I'm sure he'll be thrilled that he can marry the girl he loves _and_ contribute to the success of the rebellion…"

Plutarch keeps talking, but I've tuned him out. I hardly notice the stabbing pain in my ribs or the claustrophobia of being underground as I run back into the bowels of Thirteen, hell-bent on my goal. I have to find Finnick before Coin does.


	3. Chapter 3

**Sorry for the delay in updating! I've had lots on but thanks so much for the reviews and all the favourites and follows! Enjoy chapter three and pleeeease do review, it always brightens up my day :) xx**

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Chapter Three

I reach Command just as Finnick emerges, and it's only when I come to a stop that I gasp and clutch my ribs, finally acknowledging the crushing pain caused by sprinting when I'm barely capable of walking. Alarmed by how pale I am, Finnick hauls me back to the hospital, waiting until I've taken some painkillers and caught my breath before he tries to talk to me.

His voice is sad. "So I guess by the fact that you nearly killed yourself running just now that you were trying to warn me?" I nod.

"Plutarch just told me his plan," My voice comes out husky and quiet, "Finnick, did she ask…? Are you going to…?"

"No." Finnick sighs, running a hand through his hair, "At least not for the minute. Just as Coin told me the plan for the wedding propo, Prim came in with news from the hospital that Annie has hit one of the medics and smashed the observation window in her room." His tearful eyes meet mine, "Even Coin didn't argue with me when I said that a wedding would be impossible right now with the state Annie's in."

I reach out and wipe the single tear that has fallen down his face, and as I try to take my hand back Finnick grabs it, squeezing hard as his voice wavers.

"Am I a terrible person, Katniss?" He whispers, desperate, "I felt _relieved _to hear that she'd caused more chaos just so I wouldn't have to tell the truth… What kind of person feels that way when someone is suffering so much?"

That makes me think, over the next couple of days, as I continue my recuperation and Haymitch gives me updates on Peeta's progress. "Sometimes he's almost rational, and then, for no reason, he goes off again… He's pretty angry at me, but for all the right reasons."

I start to wonder whether I want Peeta to get better or not. Of course, it's not that I want him to be in pain any more, but I can't imagine ever getting to the point where I could trust him if he claimed to have recovered, if he were to tell me he loved me… It's like Finnick said, I'm relieved that he's still so temperamental, as awful as it is, because I have something to blame for why I don't want to be with him. If that makes me a terrible person, then we'll be terrible together.

On the afternoon Haymitch comes to find me, I'm almost managing to have a good time. Finnick sits on the chair by my bed while I'm sat on the floor between his legs, the two of us lapsing into giggles as he attempts to weave complicated knots into my hair. Haymitch frowns as he sees us, an almost suspicious expression passing briefly across his face. I smile and greet him as Finnick gently helps me up so as not to hurt my ribs, and I sit down on my bed. Haymitch looks shifty, indecisive, and so I take the direct approach.

"What?" I ask sharply, knowing the only thing this could be about, "What's happening to him?"

Haymitch, knowing me as he does, doesn't beat around the bush. "He says he'd like to see you."

A kind of dread washes over me, and I'm not sure if I'm scared of him being worse or better. This is not part of my plan. My job now is to go to the Capitol, to kill Snow, and then to die. Never was I to hear the words _He says he'd like to see you. _But now that I have, there's no way to refuse. What surprises me is that I've got one condition. I turn to Finnick.

"I need you to come in with me."

It takes convincing, both for Finnick and for Haymitch, but finally they both agree. Peeta's eyes lock on mine immediately when we enter, but I determinedly avoid his gaze, focussing instead on his restraints, on the needle poised to knock him out if he loses it. I don't realise I've been staring blankly at it for a good few seconds until Finnick gently pushes me further into the room, offering Peeta a wary smile.

"Hello, Peeta."

"You're Finnick." His voice is blunt, emotionless, so unlike the voice that used to coax me out of my nightmares. That job belongs to Finnick now.

"I am. It's good to see you!"

Peeta ignores him, and I can feel his eyes on me, so I force myself to meet them.

"I only told Haymitch I wanted to speak to _you._" Peeta looks at me accusingly, both anger and fear obvious in his expression.

"I-" I choke out, my voice tiny, "I know. I just thought it might be good for you to see Finnick as well."

"So you're scared of me, then?"

"Well, shouldn't I be?" I feel my temper rise, and I hate myself for it. "I recall the last time we met you tried to strangle me, so-"

"Alright." Finnick rests a hand on my shoulder, and Peeta notices. He gives a hollow laugh.

"You've moved on quick, then. I knew they were all wrong when they said you loved me." Again, despite the fact that he's been through hell, I find myself angry at him. This is all wrong.

"You don't know what the hell you're talking about." I can hear Haymitch sigh in my earpiece as I speak, "You don't… How can you…?" I can't express my fury at him. "I don't know you."

"Well aren't you nice!" Peeta laughs again, a terrible, bitter sound, "To say that to me after all I've been through."

I clench my fists, "Yeah. We've all been through a lot."

Peeta nods, looking from me to Finnick, his eyes wide and almost manic. "I bet you have! The two of you!" He glares at Finnick, "Tell me, do you feel good about being with the mutt when you're supposed to be with Annie?"

Finnick's jaw tightens, and it's my turn to grab his arm as he takes a step closer to the bed.

"You don't know what you're talking about." He manages to keep his voice calm, even as Peeta begins to shake and look more and more deranged.

"I do!" Peeta yells wildly, "I know her, Finnick! I was with her the whole time in the Capitol! You'd better watch out if you don't want me trying to steal her from you! Much better than being with a _mutt _who doesn't care about anybody!"

That's enough for the both of us. "Come on, Katniss," Finnick mutters, but this only makes matters worse, as my name seems to act as a trigger and Peeta loses it completely, thrashing fiercely against his straps and shrieking incoherently as the medics rush in to sedate him and usher us firmly out of the room.

In the corridor, still able to hear his screams growing fainter, I sink to the ground. Haymitch strides over, and I press my palms to my eyes, breathing heavily .

"I'm so sorry." I'm pleading with him as he pulls me to my feet, "I never meant to-"

"Let's just agree that it was a bad idea." Haymitch surprises me with his lack of scolding, and I've never been more grateful. I glance around to see Finnick a few feet away, staring at the ground and looking lost, and I reach for Haymitch's hand.

I see his surprise at the gesture as I look pleadingly into his eyes, communicating everything that I can't out loud. I know this man understands.

"He's not coming back, is he?" Haymitch sniffs, and shakes his head. "Then please," I almost whisper, glancing briefly at Finnick, "You have to get us out of here."

* * *

I haven't dared to hope that the landing pad in District Four would actually be in sight of the ocean, so I'm thrilled beyond comparison when I step into the open air and I can see it beyond some buildings, vast and blue and twinkling.

I take a deep breath, revelling in this new salty, fresh scent, before looking at Finnick and realising that my delight is absolutely nothing in comparison to his. I can never thank Haymitch enough for this; for relentlessly persuading Coin and Plutarch that it was a good idea for us to come here. As Plutarch told me, there are merely a few discussions, a few papers to sign here, mainly for show, and then all of the districts will officially be in the hands of the rebels. Officially, we are here to film a few propos, sending out the message that the Mockingjay is alive and fighting despite being shot, and that we as Victors are willing to travel any distance in the name of the rebellion. Truthfully, it's just that neither of us could stand another day being cooped up underground with the weight of Annie and Peeta's madness on our shoulders, but that wasn't what Haymitch used to convince them.

The first couple of days are spent in the Justice Building being captured on camera talking to the District's commanders and watching the papers be signed. In the evenings we eat dinners of seafood, delicious new flavours that I've never tasted before, and on the first night I'm so full and feeling so unusually secure that I fall straight asleep when I'm shown to my room. But on the second evening, when Haymitch has settled himself with the local drink and Plutarch and Cressida have buried themselves in editing their footage, Finnick grabs me by the hand.

"Come on," He grins, "I've been itching to show you around since we got here."

In the back of my mind, a voice tells me that it won't be safe, that I shouldn't stray too far or disobey instructions, but the glint in Finnick's eye somehow silences it. We wander through the expansive town centre, and I allow myself to ignore the occasional smashed window or broken down wall which reminds me of the fact that we're in a warzone.

"It's smaller than I thought," I observe, and Finnick laughs.

"This is just the main town," He tells me as we walk, "There are lots of other villages spread around, like you saw in District Two. This place is just the glittery part of the district you always see on TV. You came here on your Victory Tour."

We enter a large square with the Justice Building at the far end and I nod, remembering.

"It seems so long ago," I sigh, "It's hard to believe it's only been a year."

"Yup. I was there, you know, with Mags and Annie and the other Victors. I watched you up on that stage spouting some awfully written speech about unity and the Capitol."

I cringe, shaking my head to rid myself of the memory. "I didn't see you, though," I tell him, "At the reception or the feast for us in the evening or anything."

"No," Finnick sighs, "No, I um… I had to take Annie back to her house. She took a bit of a turn." I squeeze his hand in sympathy, and his pained look is replaced by a weak smile.

"So," I change the topic, "What else is in this town? Did you live here?"

"I didn't before my Games," He tells me, as I let him lead me down another street, "But the Victor's Village is here, and the training centres."

"Training centres?" I'm puzzled. Surely they don't need training centres outside of the Capitol? "You mean like-" And then it hits me. "Oh."

"Yep." Finnick raises his eyebrows, "That's the reality of it, Katniss. There's a reason we need such a big Victor's Village in Four, and it's because our tributes always have the best shot. Because we were starting to train with weapons at about the same time we were learning to walk and talk."

Before my Games, I'd never given the Career tributes much thought because I'd never needed to, and when I was competing I just regarded them as brutes; as monsters who didn't matter because they had volunteered to be there. But the way Finnick puts it now, I'm finally forced to look at the reality. That they are victims just as much as the rest of us; that they are only so desperate to go into the Games because they've had it forced onto them for their entire lives. In the same way that I don't judge my prep team for being shallow and childish because it's how they've been raised, I can't blame the Careers for the way they see the Games.

For the millionth time in my life, the sheer unfairness of the sick society that we live in washes over me, and the desire to throttle Snow burns in my chest.

I look at Finnick with a new perspective. "I've never asked you," I say softly, "About what it was like."

We've moved out from between two buildings to the top of a grassy bank, at the bottom of which is a long beach and then the endless expanse of the sea. It's breathtaking.

Finnick seems to consider what I've just said as we sit down on a bench overlooking the ocean. "It's hard to describe," He says, "Like I say, they just force it onto you as far back as I can remember. I guess it's when we start school that they decide who they want to pick to train up properly, and when I was picked it was something to be so proud of. It's a chance to prove yourself, when you're that young. We'd watch the Games every year and when our tributes came back Victors they were _Gods, _you know? What seven-year-old doesn't look at a person like that with admiration." He shakes his head bitterly, "It's all so very, very wrong, Katniss."

I nod, trying not to imagine Prim at age two being encouraged to fight with the other children.

"So how come you were only fourteen?" I ask him, "I thought Career tributes were normally not ready until sixteen or seventeen."

"Ah, yes," Finnick smirks slightly, "Well. I hate to say it, but my ego back then was even bigger than it is now. I knew, deep down, that I was the best, and I wouldn't take no for an answer. I told my trainers that I felt ready to volunteer and they absolutely forbade it. They knew I could win, but they wanted me to wait a year or two. But, there's not all that much they can do come reaping day. It's all down to who can get in there and volunteer first. They were _furious _when I managed to shout out first; figured they'd lost for another year." He swallows, his voice quiet now, and reflective, "I guess I showed them, huh?"

I squeeze my eyes shut, unaware until they spill over that tears have pooled in them. Finnick opens his arms and I lean into him, silent for a while as we watch the sun creep closer and closer to the horizon.

"Come on!" He jumps up suddenly, seeming determined to banish our sombre mood, "Shoes off, Everdeen!"

I'm so surprised that I laugh, but I don't have time to ask what he's talking about before he's flung his shoes away and sprinted down the bank towards the beach. As I follow suit, my ribs don't hurt nearly as much as they have been. I catch up to Finnick almost at the water's edge, revelling in the feeling of the sand between my toes and the smell of seaweed.

"This is a little bit different to the last time we were on a beach together!" I speak loudly over the breeze as I reach him. He turns to me and smiles.

"Oh, definitely! There's a distinct lack of poisonous fog or mutated monkeys out to kill us here."

I almost laugh, before I catch myself. "God, Finnick, how do we joke about things like that?"

"Because," he shrugs honestly, "We've got to deal with it somehow." And he's right.

"I can't believe we're really here after everything we talked about." I slip my arm through his as we take the last few steps down to the water, "It's so hard to focus on the war and on everything in Thirteen when you're in a place like this. It's so beautiful I feel like it's too good to be true."

"Then let's just focus on this for a while." And so I do. I banish Peeta and Snow and the Capitol and the _damn _Hunger Games from my mind for a blissful few minutes, and focus on standing here with Finnick, the cold water just splashing our feet when the tide moves in and out. I focus on the sun as it gets lower and lower, and on how safe I feel just from having my arm through his.

Something stirs inside me, and I can't tell if it comes from my stomach or my chest or the tip of my toes, but suddenly I am drawn to Finnick more than I ever have been to anyone. It's like what I felt with Peeta in the Quell or Gale in the woods, only so much stronger that I feel like I might burst. Without a word, I throw my arms around him, and without hesitation he holds me tightly in return.

The sun moves steadily lower, its bottom third now obscured by the horizon.

"I didn't make you hate me, did I?" Finnick whispers into my hair, suddenly sounding like a frightened child, "When I told you about my Games just now."

I move my head back just far enough to look into his eyes while remaining tightly wrapped in his arms, shaking my head as I reach up and move a piece of hair from his forehead. "I could never hate you, Finnick." My voice is a whisper, "You're the one who understands, remember? This is what we do for each other."

The sun's over half gone now.

Finnick nods, smiling slightly now as he murmurs, "I think my district suits you, you know. From what I remember you're a very strong swimmer for someone from Twelve."

"Well I had to learn," I can't help but tease, "Just in case I ever had to escape from some mad fisherman with a trident." Just the tiniest sliver of sun is now visible above the sea.

"Well," He grins, "You're not getting away from me now. Like I said, you look perfect here." He brings up his hand to gently rest on my cheek, and suddenly I'm aware of what's happening. Of the intensity in Finnick's eyes, of the feelings that are swirling around me, of my skin burning at every point of contact between us. Until now, we've been each others' safety nets, someone to rely on in the utter desperation of our situation. To cling to and confide in… Nothing more. But now, something is on the verge of changing.

The sun drops below the horizon, a shadow sweeps over us, and everything changes all at once.

"Katniss," Finnick whispers, so close I can almost taste him, and I see the worries of Thirteen and of what is about to happen flash across his eyes for a second just as they do mine. I nod gently, our silent agreement that says _not tonight_.

And then we reach for each other as we always have done, closing the gap between our lips in a natural extension of the comfort we've already given each other for months.

Right now, there is no war, no Gale or Peeta, who I've really only ever kissed when I couldn't think of what else to do. They don't matter, because stood here, far away with Finnick on the newly darkened beach, there is nothing I'd rather do more.


End file.
